


...and the rest is history

by daestruct



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction within fanfiction, Fantasizing, Genderbending, Genderswap, Masturbation, Sex, Straight People, always-a-girl baek, fem!baekhyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daestruct/pseuds/daestruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chanyeol said Professor Kim was hot, Baekhyun didn't think he meant "a gentleman with a panty-dropping smirk," but here she is feeling a little too hot for history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	...and the rest is history

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for daelightsaving baekchen fest!
> 
> Umm...I have no excuse for this. Enjoy? LOL.

Every History 102, Survey of World History II class starts the same way. Baekhyun gets there seventeen minutes before class starts, and Professor Kim walks in five minutes after her, twelve before class starts, throwing his jacket on the front table and dropping his briefcase next to it. He always looks up towards Baekhyun's seat - the middle of the third row - and throws her a smile that makes her heart feel two seconds from bursting.

"Early again, Baekhyun?" he asks by way of greeting. It's probably rhetorical by now, but Baekhyun always has to suppress a shiver at the low, casual tone of his voice when it's just them in the classroom instead of higher, excited voice when he starts lecturing about the Vietnam Conflict. ("Congress never declared war," Professor Kim says in her mind, jabbing at the bullet-point on his PowerPoint slide. "So it is a _conflict._ Make sure you know this for any pop quizzes.")

Baekhyun crosses her left leg over her right, pointing her toes to accentuate the gentle curve of her calf, and leans forwards with her chin in her hand, smiling prettily.

"Always, professor," she answers. He laughs, and the sound rolls through Baekhyun pleasantly. She gets out her notebook in a daze, picking out her favorite black pen (G-2, .7 millimeter ink) and sending her best friend a quick text.

_I still hate you for suggesting this class._

Which she follows with:

_Why is he so fucking attractive?_

Chanyeol, supposed holder of the title of 'best friend,' had told Baekhyun all about how hot Professor Kim is, but Chanyeol's taste in men has always been questionably tainted by whether or not he could potentially pick his current crush up and fuck him against the wall. Baekhyun has learned, over time, to interpret this to mean when Chanyeol says someone is 'hot,' that someone is also 'short.' Professor Kim is definitely short, but this time, for once, when Chanyeol had told Baekhyun to take Section III of History 102 with Kim, Jongdae on Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 4 o'clock because "he's hot, dude. Like. Hot as fuck," he hadn't been exaggerating.

Actually, he'd been making the understatement of the century. "Hot as fuck" cannot even begin to describe Professor Jongdae Kim. He's mind-blowingly hot. Should have been a kpop idol hot. Would let do whatever he wants to her hot. Downright illegal in dress shirts hot.

And then he'd spoken so warmly to Baekhyun when she'd gotten to class way too early, asking her if she loved history as much as he does (she's just finally fulfilling her general education history requirements) and if that's why she's there so early with this low, teasing tone to his voice and Baekhyun's fate was sealed.

Getting to class early ensures she gets the chance to interact with him one-on-one, and it also means she gets to stare at him unabashedly as he sets up the computer and the PowerPoint slides for the day's class. If she ogles his ass when he leans over to grab something out of his briefcase, it's completely appropriate. She's a first semester senior. She is legally allowed to drink. He’s young- fresh out of grad school. If they weren’t professor and student, Baekhyun would be going out of her way to find a way to date him.

Baekhyun doesn't really recommend crushing on one's professor, but she'd fallen in love with his voice and his ass before she had figured out that she doesn't really recommend this one-sided pining. Her coping method is going to get her in trouble one of these days, Chanyeol consistently tells her, but if her coping method gets her into the sort of trouble that is _in_ her coping method, she won't be upset with the outcome at all.

Fanfiction.

Sort of.

Baekhyun's black notebook might say HISTORY 102 in silver sharpie on the cover, but the inside says less about the uses of tear gas in World War II and more about the sex tears she'd like to be crying while her professor, ahem, fucks her.

 _Dear Chanyeol,_ the first page starts off. _How fucking dare you tell me to take a class with a hot professor and actually be right about him being hot? How the hell do you expect me to concentrate when he looks like that and talks like that and is kind of dorky and you know I go hard for the smart ones._

The page also contains some notes on important dates from the syllabus and the attendance policy ( _Friday's aren't mandatory, Chanyeol! Are you serious right now? On top of being hot he also supports us getting wasted early on Fridays? Like? Man of my dreams?_ ), and then it just dissolves into her continuing to cuss out Chanyeol Park for this betrayal.

The following pages, however, have turned into short letters to Professor Kim that are followed by short clips of writing about a mysterious 'him' and 'her' getting it on after hours, getting it on at private tutoring session, getting it on in his office, getting it on during a surprise vacation, getting it on the entire week of spring break, getting it on anywhere anytime. Chanyeol can't believe she's passing the class ("Acing," she corrects him every time) when all she does is sit there and get herself all worked up over Professor Jongdae Kim in her daydreams.

"It's called reading, dumbass," she'd told him after midterms, shoving his shoulder. "That's why we have textbooks." Chanyeol had very seriously asked her if she'd sucked Professor Kim's dick for her perfect grade, and Baekhyun could only sigh wistfully, wishing she had.

"Something the matter, Baekhyun?" Professor Kim's voice breaks through Baekhyun's thoughts, and she jerks up, blinking when she sees him right in front of her, holding out a manila envelope with her name on it. Baekhyun takes it from him carefully.

"No, I'm fine," she says, flashing him a smile. "What is-?"

"Your in-class essays," Professor Kim explains. He taps the folder. "These are very good. You're an English major, aren't you?"

"Creative writing emphasis," Baekhyun answers, sitting up a little taller. "Yes."

"I can tell," Professor Kim says. "I look forward to how you respond to the final essay prompt." He moves on then, trekking up towards the back of the class to deliver another folder, and Baekhyun brings her folder up to nose, trying to hide her grin behind it. It's not everyday her crush compliments her (read: never before), and she's in a state of bliss about the development. Of course, that bliss could also be because she can make out the faint spice of Professor Kim's cologne clinging to the folder.

Baekhyun pulls her blue books out of the folder, flipping them open to the front pages to see her scores. Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, and a ninety-four on the day she had that terrible cold and couldn't remember how to spell Normandy. These plus her perfect pop quiz average of 100 and the 102% she earned on the midterm are almost enough to earn her a guaranteed A in the class (and her perfect attendance record is a nice bonus), but Baekhyun has this hopeless need to impress Professor Kim.

Call her greedy, but she needs to make another 102% on the final exam.

"Alright," Professor Kim calls from the front of the lecture hall. "It's now four o'clock. Let's get started." He turns to flick the desktop on, showing the topic of today's lecture on the projection screen. Baekhyun flicks her notebook open, turning to the next blank page just as Professor Kim starts talking about the tunnels used in the Vietnam Conflict.

Baekhyun clicks her pen into writing mode, and sets the tip at the top of the page, marking the date with a flourish.

_Dear Professor Jongdae Kim,_

_Today you gave me back my essays. I did an amazing job on all of them, to be honest. I guess you noticed because you complimented me on them and said you're looking forward to reading my final essay. I haven't picked a topic yet, but I am definitely going to do my best to meet your expectations._

_You also did that horrible thing where you smile, and, honestly, could you just not? It's horrendously distracting._

_Anyway. I guess I'll just-_

"-clues? Baekhyun?"

Baekhyun jerks up and sees Professor Kim pointing at a slide titled 'Protection of Opinion and Speaking out Against the Draft.' "The first amendment?" she tries. Professor Kim breaks into a wide smile, and Baekhyun's heart skips a beat in her chest.

"Very good," Professor Kim says, continuing on with his lecture. Baekhyun bites her lower lip, feeling good with Professor Kim's voice praising her ringing in her ears. She ducks her head back to her 'notes.'

_Anyway. I guess I'll just get to the good stuff then? Where I left off last time..._

Baekhyun turns her notebook over to the previous page, reading the last lines on the page over a few times before she has them committed to memory. She'd only just started a new scenario during the last class, and during the next hour, she's going to fill in as much of it as she can. She flips back to her page date-marked for today, and begins.

_It's raining when she steps out of her professor's office. The discussion about her stellar grades and her potential in the history department had gone well, but it had been a long talk that had surpassed her usual nighttime dining hour._

_"It's so dark already," her professor apologizes, stepping out of his office behind her to the lock the door. "And it's raining."_

_"Yes," she says. "I'm not looking forward to waiting for the bus in this mess."_

_Her professor clucks his tongue, walking with her towards the exit doors. "Do you have an umbrella?" he asks. "Or a raincoat, at least? You'll catch a cold like this." She shakes her head. It had been sunny just this morning. She hadn't need either of those._

_"No," she says. "It was nice out when I left this morning." Her professor eyes her and then eyes the rain before he checks his watch._

_"You know," he starts, shifting his weight to his right foot. It makes his hips stand out a bit, his narrow waist tucked into well-fitted pants. She licks her lips before she can stop herself, and she prays that her professor didn't notice. He doesn't seem to have, glancing at his watch again. "The next bus isn't for another twenty minutes, and I'd hate for you to have to stand out here in that." She glances down at her thin sweater and leggings. She wrinkles her nose at the prospect of her white chucks getting ruined in the puddles that gather around the main bus stop._

_"It's fine," she says, but she's can't make her voice sound convincing. "I'll just wait here and run out there later."_

_"That's even less fine," her professor says. "You don't need to be in this building by yourself after hours. Come on." He pushes the door open, holding it open for her. "I'll give her a ride home."_

_She remembers to blink before she stares at him, mouth hanging open. "Really?" she says, and she curses how excited she sounds at the prospect of a ride home in a _car._ She doesn't have a car, doesn't need one when she lives to close to campus. "I mean. No. That's alright."_

_"I insist," her professor says. He gestures out the door. "My car is right there. You'll be mostly dry." She watches the headlights on a_

Baekhyun pauses in writing, looking up to observe her professor curiously. She has no idea what type of car Professor Kim drives, but she knows he's Korean like her. She'll just go with an Asian make car then; that will have to be close enough.

_Kia Optima flash in the parking lot just across the campus chapel. She glances up at her professor again._

_"Are you sure it's okay?" she asks. He smiles at her, a reassuring sort of smile, and her insides feel like they might be melting._

_"Of course," he assures her. "I wouldn't have offered if it wasn't." She bites her lip then, and agrees. The two of them dart out into the rain, jogging to the professor's car and flinging themselves inside. The seats are leather, and she runs her hands over the smooth interior._

_"This is nice," she compliments. Her professor laughs as he starts the engine._

_"Temporary," he admits. "My car is in the shop. This is just a rental for a few days."_

Baekhyun mentally pats herself on the back. That's smooth. An easy way to avoid having the wrong make and model of the car that actually belongs to her professor.

_"Oh," she says. "I guess I should have noticed the stickers in the window." She points towards the sticker in the upper left hand corner of the windshield that identifies the car as part of the Budget rental agency._

_"It's dark," her professor soothes. "So. Where to?" She rattles off her address, and he snaps his fingers before throwing the car into drive._

_"I used to live around there," he says, releasing the brake. The car moves forward slowly before he accelerates a bit, pulling out of the parking lot. She buckles her seat belt quickly._

_"When you were a student here?" she asks for clarification._

_"Yes." He flicks on his signal, turning towards her neighborhood. They lapse into silence, and she fidges with the hem of her sweater until her professor asks for specific directions to her apartment building._

_"Over there," she says, pointing. They pull to a stop in the back lot where she had directed him to go. She likes to use the back entrance to her building as much as possible. It's closer to the elevator up to the fourth floor._

_"We're here then," her professor says, and the click of the doors unlocking echoes in the quiet of the car._

_"Y-yeah," she stammers, suddenly feeling nervous. "I'll just-"_

_"Wait," her professor says, and then his hand lands on her upper arm. She turns towards him immediately, a 'yes?' on her lips, but she's suddenly so close, his face only inches from hers._

_"Sorry," she starts, but he shakes his head._

_"No, it's-" he begins. He licks his lips, and her eyes are immediately drawn to the action, watching his tongue slide along the wicked curve of his mouth. Her own mouth suddenly feels very dry._

_"Maybe I'm reading the signs wrong," her professor says. "But I think you might be, perhaps, interested in me?" Her heart drops down into the pit of her stomach. Of course- she'd been too obvious. He's going to tell her off, to tell her that she's a student and even if she's an adult, this can't happen. He's going to tell her that he's already got a girlfriend, or maybe a boyfriend. He could be gay, and she might have been making a fool of herself this whole time-_

_"Tell me if I'm right," her professor continues. "Because I'm interested in you, and I don't want to kiss you if you don't want me to."_

_She freezes, and she thinks she must be dreaming right now._

_"Are you-" She hesitates. "Are you asking if you can kiss me?"_

_Her professor licks his lips again, and she really wants him to kiss her. She really wants to kiss him._

_"I am," her professor says, and that's all the urging she needs. She reaches across the console to cup her professor's jaw in her hands, and he meets her halfway, one hand sliding into her hair and the other around to her back. He kisses like a dream, like everything she had hoped and thought he might kiss like, and her heart is beating a million miles per minute, about to burst out of her chest when he licks over the seam of her lips._

_She doesn't need much encouragement to open for him, to let him taste her. She sucks on his tongue, and the slightest moan reverberates against her lips. She gasps, pulling away from him._

_"I have been_

Professor Kim claps his hands together, breaking through Baekhyun's thoughts. "Alright," he announces. "That's enough for today. Go ahead and pack up and get out of here. Go on." The ensuing rustle of papers and notebooks being shoved into backpacks completely ruins Baekhyun's thought process, and she sighs, closing her notebook and grabbing her headphones out of her bag before she slips the straps onto her shoulders and flounces down the steps.

"Baekhyun," Professor Kim halts her before she leaves the room, and Baekhyun's heart pounds. What if she's about to experience her notebook fantasy come to life? She pinches the back of her hand to snap herself out of it. She clears her throat and walks up to Professor Kim's desk.

"Yes, professor?" She tries to check herself in her phone reflection without being too noticeable before her professor turns around from packing up his notes.

"I noticed you've been taking a lot of notes in class," Professor Kim says. "And your grades are always outstanding."

Baekhyun blushes. "I study," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Professor Kim laughs a little.

"A good student," he praises. "So I was thinking I might invite you to join me and some of the upper-level history students for a sort-of honors history club. It's by invitation only, and even though you're only doing this for your gen-eds, I think you would really be benefit from and enjoy our little club."

It's an honor, Baekhyun thinks, and she tries to focus on that - the fact that her professor is honoring her academic prowess and offering her this opportunity - instead of the fact that her crush, Jongdae Kim, just invited her to be able to spend more time in his presence.

"When is it?" she asks, hoping she doesn't sound too eager.

"Thursday nights," Professor Kim answers. "Seven o'clock at the library Starbucks." He holds out a post-it note with the details, and Baekhyun's fingers brush his as she takes it from him at the same time as he says, "I would really love to see you there."

Shocks fly up Baekhyun's arm, and she tucks the post-it note away carefully in her wallet just to give herself something to do other than gape at her professor.

"I will," she promises.

"It's extra credit if you attend," Professor Kim says as if the incentive of his presence isn't enough to convince Baekhyun to go. He laughs then. "Not that you need it."

Baekhyun giggles a little, but it sounds awkward even to her, and that's when she notices that it is only her and her professor left in the lecture hall. The scene she'd written last week of the professor taking the mysterious, nameless 'she' from behind while he bends her over the desk at the front of the room races through her mind, and Baekhyun feels the beginnings of a deep blush crawling up from under her collar.

"I'll go," she promises again.

Professor Kim slips back into his jacket and picks up the strap of his briefcase. "Until next class then," he says.

"Yes," Baekhyun agrees. "See you Wednesday."

She turns and walks out of the lecture hall, desperate for the crisp afternoon air to calm her down.

+

"You look a little hot and bothered," Chanyeol greets her when she sits down across from him at the Steak-and-Shake across the street from campus.

"Shut up," she snaps at him, dropping her backpack in the space next to her in the booth. 

"Aw, Baekkie," Chanyeol coos. "Don't be like this to me. You know I totally ship you and Prof Kim together, okay?"

Baekhyun just rolls her eyes. "Is Kyungsoo coming?"

Chanyeol's face lights up almost comically at the mention of his boyfriend of almost three years. "On his way," he reports. "Said something about prep and a butt plug and-"

"Hey hey hey hey hey," Baekhyun blurts out, speaking rapidly and holding her arms in an 'x' in front of her to cut Chanyeol off. "I am fine with whatever you choose to fuck or not to fuck or choose to do or not to do with whomever you fuck, but please. I do not want or need to hear about it."

Chanyeol just cackles, his laugh too loud in the mid five o'clock lull of the restaurant. "Unfortunately for you, I am not so shy about listening to your fictional sex life." He holds out his hand. "Let's see what the professor and you got up to today, hm?" Baekhyun grabs her backpack, clutching it close to her.

"Absolutely not," she says. She regrets ever telling her best friend about the stories she writes instead of taking notes, but that's what she gets for agreeing to get drunk with him on his birthday last year. (To be fair, it hadn't taken a lot of convincing. Baekhyun is a sucker for jello shots.)

"Aww, come on," Chanyeol whines. "Before Kyungsoo gets here, man. Come on."

Baekhyun sighs hugely, staring up towards the florescent lighting. "Why me?" she asks the ceiling with a slight pout before she hands over the black notebook and resorts to chewing on her pinky knuckle to calm her nerves, trying to give her abused bottom lip a break as she watches Chanyeol flip to the most recent entry, eyes scanning the page.

He groans and looks up at her.

"Seriously?" he whines. "Right at the best part."

"Your interest in heterosexual soft porn concerns me," Baekhyun says dryly, snatching her notebook back and stuffing it back into her backpack. She glances towards the door to the fast food joint. "Kyungsoo's here."

Chanyeol stands up from their booth, waving Kyungsoo towards them, and Baekhyun is infinitely grateful for Kyungsoo's arrival. Him being here means Baekhyun won't be conned into answering Chanyeol about what is going to happen next by her best friend's stupidly effective pouty face. He really just looks dumb when he does it, Kyungsoo consistently tells her, but years of friendship have no desensitized Baekhyun the way she hoped they would.

"Hey," Kyungsoo says when he gets up to them. He accepts a kiss from Chanyeol before he sits down next to him across from Baekhyun. "Hello, Baekhyun."

"Hey, Soo," Baekhyun returns, before she twists in her seat glancing toward one of the waitresses. The girl looks over at her, and Baekhyun smiles, waving her towards their table before she plops down more comfortably in her seat. "You boys ready to order? Because I am. Chanyeol owes me this meal."

Chanyeol squawks, but slap cup losers must pay their dues. Baekhyun accepts payment in the form of a milkshake and fries with a side of grease on a bun.

+

Four in the afternoon on Wednesday finds Baekhyun still feeling bloated and gross after Monday's Steak-and-Shake outing, and she almost considers skipping class just because she won't look her best in front of Professor Kim. Her perfect attendance record wins out over her protesting stomach, and she drags herself to her history lecture with her trusty black notebook and black pen in tow, plopping down in her usual seat only a minute before the clock turns to chime the beginning of the new hour.

"Class is in session," Professor Kim announces, speaking in a mockingly low tone. "And today's focus is-!" He flicks on the projector with a flourish, and Baekhyun flips her notebook open to the page where she left off, looking down at her last few lines and chewing on the end of her pen.

_"I am," her professor says, and that's all the urging she needs. She reaches across the console to cup her professor's jaw in her hands, and he meets her halfway, one hand sliding into her hair and the other around to her back. He kisses like a dream, like everything she had hoped and thought he might kiss like, and her heart is beating a million miles per minute, about to burst out of her chest when he licks over the seam of her lips._

_She doesn't need much encouragement to open for him, to let him taste her. She sucks on his tongue, and the slightest moan reverberates against her lips. She gasps, pulling away from him._

_"I have been_

Baekhyun clicks the top of the pen against her front tooth and chews on the inside of her cheeks instead while she thinks. She scratches out the last three words she'd written and tries again.

_"Professor," she says. "I'm not sure this is- I mean." She stops talking, unsure of what she really wants to say._

_"Don't call me professor," he says. "Not right now." She doesn't get a chance to ask what he'd like her to call him before he's kissing her again, and she doesn't get a chance to think about where this might be heading before his hands, warm and gentle, are sliding up the sides of his ribs, settling just under the curve of her breasts. She can't help herself, leaning into his touch. She's been thinking about this for so long, wanted this for so long, and now it's happening._

_And suddenly it's not happening her. Her professor untangles himself from her, clearing his throat._

_"I'm sorry," he says, and the regret in his voice clashes oddly with his breathlessness. She look down at the front of his pants, and a flood of desire crashes over her when she sees just how affected he is by her. "This is a car- a rental car. You-"_

_"You could-" she starts before she's really thought through her words. "You could come up with me?" She holds her breath, and the only sound in the car is the pouring rain outside and her professor’s even breathing. Her heart pounds in her chest._

_“Are you certain?” her professor asks, and she reaches out, hesitating only a moment, to run her fingers down the line of his jaw. There are a million answers she could give: I’ve wanted this for so long, I’ve thought about this and hoped for it, Yes, Of course, I’m absolutely positive, if you proposed to me, I’d probably say ‘yes’... but she settles on a simple nod._

_“Yes,” she murmurs, and her fingers brush over his lips. His eyes darken, focused entirely on her._

_“Lead the way,” he whispers in turn, and she doesn’t argue with him, doesn’t want to. They step out of the car and dash inside, she unlocking the building door and leading him to the elevator and up to her room._

_For the first time, she is glad she lives alone because as soon as the door is open, her professor has his hands around her waist, pressing her back against the door, the chill of the wood through her sweater versus the heat of his body pressed against shocking a gasp from her lips._

Baekhyun shifts in her seat, sitting up and recrossing her legs. The idea of Professor Kim running his hands down her sides, kissing her, flipping her skirt up and pressing in close between her legs has Baekhyun feeling a little too on edge. She wonders vaguely if her fellow senior class friend Yixing would give her a hand if she called him.

She rolls her eyes at herself. She really would rather take care of herself than ask someone else to take care of her fantasy about her professor.

She glances up at the clock. Twenty minutes left in this class period. She turns her attention to her professor and his excited tangent about the military history class he’s teaching next semester.

“All of you should sign up,” he says, pointing at all of them. It’s probably just her imagination, but Baekhyun could swear he winks at her when he scans past her in the third row. She swallows. “It will be a lot of fun. Better than History one-oh-two, I promise.” He taps the projection screen. “Now back to this. So the use of Napalm-”

_He kisses her again, this time with more fervor, and she presses herself up against him, sliding her hands up his arms to wrap her arms around his neck. She shivers in delight at the feeling of his muscles shifting under her hands, and she lets her head fall back with a slight moan when he breaks away from her mouth to kiss down her neck._

_“Bedroom,” she manages to say, and her professor lets go of her. She takes his hand, kicking off her chucks, leaving them beside her backpack on the floor. Her professor does the same with his loafers, draping his coat over one of the stools she has around her tiny kitchen table. She leads him towards the second door in the apartment, and guiding him inside her bedroom._

_He closes the door behind them, and she doesn’t bother telling him that she lives alone, that it doesn’t matter if he closes the door or not. She couldn’t express that much in an articulate way anyway when he’s tugging her sweater over her head, fingers ghosting over her skin._

_She brings her hands up to carefully undo each button of his shirt, leaning in to kiss his adam’s apple and trail her lips down his firm chest as she opens his shirt button by button. He groans, his fingers twisting in her hair._

_“Do you know how hard it is to lecture when you’re there, looking like you do, watching me?” he whispers, shrugging his shirt off and dragging her up to kiss him again. She hums against his lips before licking her way into his mouth, pulling his belt apart with impatient hands. She breaks their kiss to shove his pants down his legs, marveling in the way his thighs flex under her touch._

_“It’s much harder to pay attention to the lecture,” she assures him. “But I have no trouble paying attention to you.”_

_“Shit,” he breathes, stepping out of his pants and pressing her back. Her back hits her mattress, and his fingers slip under the waistband of her leggings. He presses a kiss just below her belly button, looking up at her through his lashes as he pulls her leggings down. She sits up the second they’re gone, tugging off her sports bra and pulling her professor down against her, spreading her legs to bracket his hips. He kisses her, hands coming up to cup her breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples. She arches into his touch, gasping, and rocks her hips up to feel his_

“And we’ll stop there,” Professor Kim’s voice says. The projection screen goes dark as the rustling of Baekhyun’s fellow students packing up around her. She stares at the last line of her writing and gulps, slowly uncrossing her legs. She flexes her toes in her boots and takes a calming breath before she gets to her feet, packing her notebook away. Standing reminds her of how sick she’d been feeling from her grease fest with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo on Monday night, and she closes her eyes, fumbling for her water bottle.

“Baekhyun,” stops her on her way out of the lecture hall. She turns with her mouth full of water, eyes wide with surprise. Professor Kim waves her over.

“You were a few minutes late today,” he says, and Baekhyun is torn between elation because he noticed and sadness because there goes her perfect attendance, marred by one tardy. She swallows, tucking her water bottle back into the side of her backpack. “Are you feeling alright?”

Baekhyun hopes her pleased flush isn’t too obvious. Maybe it can be passed off as a physical representation of how not-well she feels today.

“I’m alright,” she says. “Ate some bad food.”

Professor Kim nods in understanding. “I know how that goes,” he says, amiable. “Well, I hope you can go home and rest. Sleep it off.” He offers her a boyish grin, and Baekhyun clenches her fists around her backpack straps to stop herself from swooning. “Feel better, alright? Will you be coming to the honors club tomorrow?”

Baekhyun nods, flashing him a smile of her own. “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

Her professor laughs. “Yes, you did.” He snags up his jacket and briefcase. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

Butterflies start dancing in Baekhyun’s stomach. “Tomorrow night,” she agrees, and lets Professor Kim hold the lecture hall door open for her, internally flustered at his show of gentlemanly behavior.

+

Baekhyun walks into starbucks early by about a half hour, and she puts in an order for a venti chai tea latte, extra hot, and queues up to wait for her drink, glancing out at the coffee drinkers already settled around, trying to see if she can find and duo or quartet of people who scream ‘historians!’ at her. 

“Bacon!” The barista calls out. “Chai tea latte for Bacon?” Baekhyun grumbles to herself. As much as she loves her university, the inability to pronounce Korean names has driven her nuts for almost 4 years now.

“Baekhyun,” she mutters under her breath when she grabs the drink, glaring out of the corner of her eye at the barista. She heads over to a circle of armchairs situated around a low, round coffee table and plops down, pulling out her notebook and pen. 

Her phone screen reads 6:43 PM in bold, white letters. Baekhyun thinks seventeen minutes is plenty of time to finish up her latest scene. She curls up in her chair, settling the notebook over her knees, pen poised in her hand.

_“It’s much harder to pay attention to the lecture,” she assures him. “But I have no trouble paying attention to you.”_

_“Shit,” he breathes, stepping out of his pants and pressing her back. Her back hits her mattress, and his fingers slip under the waistband of her leggings. He presses a kiss just below her belly button, looking up at her through his lashes as he pulls her leggings down. She sits up the second they’re gone, tugging off her sports bra and pulling her professor down against her, spreading her legs to bracket his hips. He kisses her, hands coming up to cup her breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples. She arches into his touch, gasping, and rocks her hips up to feel his cock slide against the inside of her thigh._

_The word ‘please’ dies on her lips, turning into a needy whine when her professor’s fingers brush around her clit before tapping on it just lightly. The muscles in her back protest from how far she arches, pressing down to seek more of his touch._

_“God,” she pants, threading her fingers through his hair as he slides a finger inside of her, his lips secure at her collarbones. He’s working her up slowly. He brings her to a high before he pulls back, smirking, watching her sputter and pant, and then he dives back in with twice the intensity, bringing her to a new high but never letting her fall over the edge._

_“Get in me,” she nearly begs, tugging on the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “I want- please.” He complies, pulling back for a second and glancing around curiously._

_“Right,” she realizes, and twists to fumble in her bedside table drawer for a condom. Her professor’s hands never leave her body, and it makes it hard for her to concentrate on ripping the packet open. She sits up just enough to roll the condom partway on him, and presses her back, rolling it down the rest of the way before hooking her knees up over his narrow hips and pressing in. She tells herself to relax and with her professor’s soothing hands on her, it’s easy to comply._

_“Hold onto me,” he tells her, and she digs her fingers into the skin of his back, trying not to scratch him too badly with her nails as he starts to move, setting his pace even and smooth until she’s moaning brokenly, unable to do much but hold on. He kisses her everywhere he can reach, keeping up his even pace, and she feels so, so close to coming but it’s just not quite enough._

_“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against her neck before he reaches down and hooks her legs up over his arms, opening her up and sliding in deeper. This time, his pace is frantic, and her stomach muscles tighten with impending release._

_“Just a-” she pants. “Ah. Close.” His rhythm falters, and it’s difficult for her to match him, but she tries, chasing her own orgasm as much as he’s chasing_

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun jolts up, closing her notebook and nearly flinging her pen across the coffee shop at the sudden sound of her professor’s voice.

“Professor Kim!” she greets, shaking a little. He reaches out a hand, settling it on her upper arm to steady her. His hand is warm, and Baekhyun tries her absolute hardest not to collapse in a puddle on the floor.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Baekhyun shakes her head, trying to act natural and not like she was just writing her professor fucking her in her HISTORY 102 notebook. “It’s fine,” she says, waving a dismissive hand. “I was just, umm. Deep in thought.” Professor Kim pats her shoulder then.

“I’m excited you came,” he says, and it’s then that Baekhyun notices the woman standing next to him. She’s stunning, nearly the epitome of beauty in Baekhyun’s opinion, with the most prettily pink mouth stretched into a friendly smile around perfect teeth. Something in Baekhyun twists and drops down to the soles of her feet, and she thinks it’s probably her heart. This must be her professor’s girlfriend, or maybe girlfriend-to-be. They’re clearly comfortable.

“Hi,” Baekhyun starts a little uncertainly. “I’m Baekhyun.”

“Baekhyun,” the woman greets, and Baekhyun is at least a little mollified to hear her name pronounced correctly. (Professor Kim has always said her name correctly, and it strikes Baekhyun belatedly that she could probably speak in Korean with him.) “I’m Joonmyun,” the woman introduces herself. “Psych grad. But this one made me fall for history, so here I am.” She nudges Professor Kim with her elbow, and he whines at her.

Baekhyun is hopelessly endeared but also extremely jealous.

“Is Minseok coming?” Professor Kim asks Joonmyun, and the woman scrunches her nose.

“She’s got a make-up bio lab scheduled tonight for some of her wayward students,” Joonmyun says. She leans forward conspiratorially towards Baekhyun. “Which I hope doesn’t run too late because she promised me dinner.”

Baekhyun blinks. “Oh. Ms. Min- ah. Minseok? Is your girlfriend?”

Joonmyun wiggles her eyebrows. “Don’t go stealing her, yeah?”

Professor Kim rolls his eyes. “She’s not going to be stealing someone she hasn’t met, Joon.” Joonmyun tosses her hair back, her bob cut swinging around her face, and pushes her glasses up her nose.

“Let’s sit then, shall we?” Joonmyun suggests, dropping her bag and macchiato on the table. “The others will get here soon.” She leans back in her seat, patting Baekhyun’s next to her to encourage her to sit down. “You’re a senior, Jongdae tells me? History?”

“Uh,” Baekhyun starts, settling back into her seat and holding her notebook firmly on her lap. “English, actually.”

Joonmyun raises her eyebrows. “History minor, then?” she prompts.

“No. I’m, uh. A creative writing emphasis. I don’t have a minor,” Baekhyun answers. “I’m just trying to fulfill my history requirements so I can graduate next semester.”

“Ah,” Joonmyun says with a look towards Professor Kim. “You must be quite smart. Or just a history lover like Jongdae, at least, for him to invite you. He’s very picky.”

“Joonmyun,” Professor Kim says in a low, warning tone that shoots through Baekhyun. She crosses her legs. 

“Is it her essays?” Joonmyun presses, attention focuses on Professor Kim. “You always were a sucker for good writing.” Professor Kim clears his throat.

“She is a very talented writer,” he acquiesces, and Baekhyun ducks her head to hide her blush. Joonmyun cackles, and Baekhyun decides she really likes the other woman even if she seems to live for making people embarrassed- _especially_ Professor Kim. It’s interesting, and kind of special, to be able to see her professor outside of a formal classroom setting. He’s playful, cracking jokes that are sometimes so bad Baekhyun can’t help but laugh. He greets every person who arrives by name, his demeanor always warm, and Baekhyun realizes, as everyone gathers around with coffee or tea, that coming here on Professor Kim’s request might have been a mistake.

She’s falling harder for him. She can almost feel it quite literally.  
More people arrive, and they sink into a discussion about Constantine and his influence on the Medieval Church. Baekhyun hasn’t never studied it before, but she asks questions and contributes where she can, soaking up every smile Professor Kim throws her way.

She’s always known that he knows his stuff, but listening to him pull out the most obscure facts and connect them to other points in history has her itching for her notebook to take _actual_ notes. 

She’s awed by him, and when she catches Joonmyun throwing her a knowing albeit awkward smirk, Baekhyun realizes she’s not nearly as opaque as she thinks she is.

+

Baekhyun lucks out running into Chanyeol and Kyungsoo on her way out of the campus Starbucks. Kyungsoo has a nice car and a much nicer driving record than Chanyeol, and Baekhyun actually trusts him to get her home in one piece.

“What are you doing here this late?” Chanyeol asks as the three of them troop across campus to where Kyungsoo is parked.

“Honors History Club,” she answers. Chanyeol gasps, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. He looms over her, and Baekhyun raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Um. Chill?”

“With Prof Kim?” Chanyeol demands, and Baekhyun glances towards Kyungsoo for help.

“Yeah,” she says. “One and the same.” Chanyeol grins hugely and throws his arms up. “And this is a big deal because?” she prompts.

Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo, leaning on him. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo share amused glances.

“My ship is sailing,” Chanyeol announces, pointing at her. “My little row boat ship. Sailing.”

“If you’re gonna ship up at least make up a cruiseliner,” Baekhyun scoffs, turning her nose up and walking off towards Kyungsoo’s parking spot. The ride home is quiet, Kyungsoo talking about a project he has to do just to keep Chanyeol from bothering Baekhyun about Professor Kim, and Baekhyun appreciates that.

“So Baekhyun,” Chanyeol asks when they pull to a stop in front of her building. “What adventures will Prof Kim and you get up to tonight?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Baekhyun’s flicks his forehead, irritated.

She ignores his question and thanks Kyungsoo. Chanyeol throws his infamous pout at her, and she sighs, leaning between the driver and passenger seat to kiss Chanyeol’s cheek.

“You two have a good night,” she says, and hurries out of the car and up to her room.

”What adventures will Prof Kim and you get up to tonight?”

The question rings in Baekhyun’s ears as she pulls off her clothes and throws one of her big brother’s old shirts that she’d ransacked years ago over her head. She sighs hugely and grabs her notebook and a tub of ice cream complete with spoon. She walks out of the kitchen to curl up on her couch, flicking her notebook open and clicking her pen on.

_“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against her neck before he reaches down and hooks her legs up over his arms, opening her up and sliding in deeper. This time, his pace is frantic, and her stomach muscles tighten with impending release._

_“Just a-” she pants. “Ah. Close.” His rhythm falters, and it’s difficult for her to match him, but she tries, chasing her own orgasm as much as he’s chasing his. She pulls him in as close as she can, reaching her own hand down between them. She doesn't have the leverage to get proper friction, but her professor's own thrusts rub her fingers just right over her clit. It hits her suddenly, and her mouth drops open in a long moan she can't suppress._

_Her vision fuzzes, and she squeezes_

A random moan filters through Baekhyun's concentration, and she looks up towards her roommate’s door. Jongin is a sweetheart, really, a fellow English major. Baekhyun likes her a lot, but that doesn't mean she has any interest in hearing her riding her boyfriend's cock.

Baekhyun groans and smashes her face against one of the couch cushions. "Everyone is dating except for me," she whines to her couch. A high-pitched keen reaches Baekhyun's ears, and she sighs, storming off the couch. Appetite spoiled, she shoves the ice cream back in the freezer, slamming the door and grabbing her headphones off the kitchen counter. She shuts her bedroom door behind and shoves her earbuds in her ears, plugging the jack into her phone.

Swedish House Mafia filters through her ears, and she grabs her book, settling back on her bed and turning to page 156. The scene she left off on is some huge reveal about the main character, and she dumps the book back on her bedside table. She's too frazzled from her hours spent talking with Professor Kim and his friends, too worked up from trying and failing the scene she's been writing this week, and too annoyed with her single status to concentrate on a Baldacci novel.

She kicks uselessly at her mattress before getting up to grab her notebook again.

"Come on, Baek," she whispers to herself. "Finish this."

_Her vision fuzzes, and she ~~squeezes~~ tightens around him as he fucks her through it. She angles her head up, sucking hard at his neck._

_"You too," she whispers, and that's all it takes. Her professor shudders above her, arms threatening to give out as he shakes with his climax. Slowly, she untangles herself from him, encouraging him to lay down beside her. She runs her fingers through his hair, trying to smother her smile against his shoulder._

_"Hey," he mumbles when he looks over at her after regaining his breath. "Kiss me." She does, kissing his blissful smile._

_"We have to pretend this never happened," her professor says._

_"Not here we don't," she argues, and her professor gives her a wicked grin before getting up to strip off the condom and tie it off. She takes the time to admire his ass as he walks into the bathroom to toss the used rubber in the trash. He comes back, setting back in between her legs._

_"No," he agrees. "Here we don't have to hide anything." She arches up as he starts his mouth down her body again._

Baekhyun jabs the paper with her pen, leaving a definitive period at the end of the scene. It feels great to be done with writing fantasy, but she doesn't feel done with it. Maybe it's her jealousy over Jongin getting some on the regular with her boyfriend; maybe it's the buzzing under her skin from how much she wants to get her hands on Jongdae Kim. Either way, Baekhyun is restless.

She tosses her notebook and pen aside and switches her playlist to something jazzy and sexy, something instrumental. She slides down more comfortably on her bed, settling a hand on her stomach. She closes her eyes, imagines her fingers are broader, warmer. Her mind runs with it before she can take the reigns of the fantasy, and suddenly it's Professor Kim beside her, his fingers running over her stomach, pushing her shirt up and skimming along the line of her underwear.

Baekhyun dips her fingers under the lace of her panties, and her other hands slides up under her shirt, circling her nipples with the pads of her fingers. In her mind, it's Jongdae Kim touching her. In her mind, her fingers are his lips dragging down her body. She twists her fingers in her sheets, kicking her underwear off and drawing her knees up. The chill air of her room has her skin humming with sensitivity, and the warmth of her own hand dragging down the inside of her thighs has Baekhyun gasping.

She pictures Professor Kim pushing her knees back, spreading her open for him. She imagines his playful smirk just before he ducks his head, kissing the inside of her knee and continuing down until she can feel his breath ghosting over damp skin. She dips a finger inside herself, digging her heels into the mattress, and her mind supplies her with the image, the sensuality of Professor Kim taking her apart with his tongue and fingers.

She comes only too easily with her lower lip caught between her teeth, her eyes shut and mind lost in her fantasy.

It takes her a little time to come down from her high, thoughts of pressing Professor Kim back against her mattress, straddling him and riding him hard keeping her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. A thin layer of sweat coats her skin, and the insides of her thighs feel slippery with her own slick. She slides off of her bed carefully, yanking the earbuds from her phone and turning up the volume on some Top 40 Pandora station, heading straight for her shower.

It's not the first time she’s ever done this, gotten off to Jongdae Kim, but it's getting more intense. She's putting herself right into a big pile of 'oh, shit' all for a dumb crush on a professor that is starting to feel less like a crush and more like a very real infatuation. 

"Damn it, Chanyeol," she swears, stepping under the spray. "Damn it."

+

Baekhyun wakes up to Jongin's boyfriend coming into their apartment with coffee and doughnuts, and Baekhyun stares at him with the biggest puppy eyes she can muster until he gives in and sets them on the table. There's a third cup of coffee there already, and Baekhyun grins. Jongin is a good friend, making sure her boyfriend buys Baekhyun coffee too.

"Babe!" Sehun shouts. "Food!"

The door to Jongin's bedroom nearly flies off its hinges. She bursts out with a big grin and plops herself in Sehun's lap, kissing his cheek.

"You're the best," she says in Korean, and the language they all share puts Baekhyun at ease. She pats the chair next to her, and Jongin clambers off of her boyfriend to take her own seat. Sehun preens across from them at Jongin's praise.

"I know," he says with a nonchalant shrug. Jongin reaches over and punches his shoulder, and Sehun yelps, glaring at her.

"Such a good, humble boyfriend," Baekhyun teases, patting Jongin's cheek. "Good morning."

Jongin tosses her a grin. "Did Sehun get you the right coffee, eonnie?" she asks. Baekhyun frowns at it and offers Sehun a scrutinizing look.

"Let's find out." She picks up the coffee and takes a sip. Sugar and cream just enough to calm the bitterness of the drink hit her tongue, and she swallows, throwing Sehun a thumbs up. "He done good," she says in best redneck accent. 

Sehun offers her a fist, and Baekhyun bumps it.

"Lame," Jongin says. She stuffs a giant bite of doughnut in her mouth, and Baekhyun busies herself with her own food. Sehun leaves them to go to the bathroom, and the second he's out of earshot, Jongin grabs her suddenly with a big, smarmy grin on her face.

"Eonnie," she whispers like there is some huge conspiracy. "Did you have someone over last night?"

Baekhyun flushes bright red. "Uh."

Jongin snickers. "Oh," she says, drawing out the syllable. "I see, I see. Your history professor still?"

Baekhyun stuffs a doughnut in her mouth to avoid answering, and Jongin pouts at her. Baekhyun picks up a doughnut hole and smashes it in Jongin's face.

"Shut up," she mumbles around her own food. Jongin tackles her to the floor, and that’s exactly how Sehun finds them- a mess of limbs and donut crumbs.

+

Baekhyun does her best to ignore her blooming, one-sided romance with her history professor. She forces herself to take actual notes in class instead of writing odes to his hands, to his face, to his ass, to his hair. He gets an awful haircut that Joonmyun and her girlfriend Minseok make fun of for two honors club meetings in a row until Professor Kim starts styling his hair up to hide the awful length of his bangs, and Baekhyun can't stop herself from writing out the most gross, fluffy fantasy of cuddling with her professor in his giant swivel chair in his office and running her fingers through his undercut and kissing his forehead.

She's never written something so simple before, and Chanyeol gives her an alarmed sort of stare when she reports that she wrote something but the rating on it isn't even PG-13.

"That's," he starts, swallowing. "Baek. Honey. That's a little. I mean. I don't want to say this but-"

"It's too much," Baekhyun admits. "I know it, but I. He just." She sighs, slouching against Chanyeol. He hums, calming her, running his fingers through her hair and detangling her braid. In the rush before finals, they haven't had a chance to hang out casually, just the two of them. Cuddling on Chanyeol's couch before finals start tomorrow is just what the doctor ordered.

"Only one semester left," Chanyeol says. He tugs on a few strands of her hair. "And then you can be free of him."

"I don't want to be free," Baekhyun whines dramatically. Chanyeol pats her head.

"I'm only taking twelve hours next semester," he tells her. "What about you?" Baekhyun grumbles.

"Eighteen," she whispers. Chanyeol stares at her.

"You're insane," he says. "It's your final semester! You can relax."

Baekhyun picks at her fingernails. "I'm adding a history minor," she confesses. "I need three upper-division courses and my English capstone course and there's this 500-level creative writing course I want to take."

Chanyeol gapes. "Insane," he repeats. "How many of those courses are taught by Prof Kim?"

"Just two," Baekhyun sniffs.

"Don't kill yourself," Chanyeol orders. Baekhyun just lays back against him again, picking up his remote and flipping over to netflix.

"I won't," she promises. All of the cartoon titles scroll across the screen. "Anastasia?"

"Once upon a December," Chanyeol sings softly in her ear, and Baekhyun presses 'play.'

+

Baekhyun takes the full time on her last final, ensuring her essay portion is absolutely perfect before she walks down to the front of the room where Professor Kim is already getting to work grading the multiple choice section of the exam from those who turned theirs in nearly an hour ago.

Three hours is a long time to take a test, but Baekhyun thinks it worth it to be the last one in the classroom handing in her final.

"Finished?" Professor Kim asks when she sets her blue book on top of the pile. "Sure you don't want to check it through again?"

Baekhyun smiles at him. "I'm sure," she says. "I'm pretty sure I can't see the words anymore. Just black squiggles."

Professor Kim rolls his shoulders back, relaxing from hunching over the tests. He's wearing a sweater and jeans today, and he looks good. He looks like Baekhyun's ideal boyfriend, and she has to fight to keep herself from checking him out blatantly, from eyeing the obvious lines of his chest through the sweater.

"Is this goodbye then?" he asks. "Or will you keep coming to the club next semester?"

"I plan to," Baekhyun says. "As long as I'm invited."

Professor Kim breaks into a wide smile, his eyes scrunching up, and Baekhyun's heart aches from how cute he looks. "Of course you're invited," he assures. "You're an excellent asset to the discussion."

Baekhyun all but beams. "I added a history minor," she informs her professor. He looks pleased at the news.

"That's a rather last minute decision," he says.

"I have the hours for it." Baekhyun shrugs. "I've been enjoying this class so much."

Professor Kim leans back and stretches his arms up. A thin strip of skin shows between his jeans and the hem of his sweater, and Baekhyun tries to swallow, her mouth going very dry. "What courses will you be taking?"

"Korean history," Baekhyun answers. "And imperial China, I think. And uh. Military history."

If Professor Kim had looked pleased before, he looks positively delighted now. Baekhyun hopes some of that delight is because its her taking his classes, not just delight because those are classes he is teaching.

"Korean and military history," he says. "I'm teaching those." He fixes her with a serious stare. "You better be taking my sections, Baekhyun."

"But your Korean history section is an eight a.m.!" She pouts.

"I'll make it fun, I promise," Professor Kim says, and Baekhyun tries very hard to not read into his words, to not read into him telling her to take his sections.

"I'll think about it, Professor," she promises. She thanks him for the class and leaves the room. She already knows she's going to be taking that eight-in-the-morning class.

+

Winter break drags by with Jongin gone on break at first her parents' home and then off to Korea to visit Sehun's family. Baekhyun spends most of her time third-wheeling on Chanyeol and Kyungsoo in their apartment. She buys Chanyeol that nasty Dallas Point beer he likes, and she funds their drunken night of too much soju, so neither Chanyeol nor Kyungsoo can really complain about her presence.

When the semester starts, Baekhyun is entirely ready to get back into the swing of classes. It hurts her deeply to wake up at seven on Tuesday morning for Korean history, but the second she steps into the classroom and sees Professor Kim in slacks and a sports coat, she feels wide awake.

The first class is syllabus day, and Baekhyun can't dive in to writing while looking like she's taking notes. The very next eight a.m. class on Thursday has her diving immediately into lazy morning sex, waking up slow and kissing soft and sweet.

As the semester goes on, Baekhyun realizes she's probably a bit of a masochist for intentionally choosing to take so many history courses, let alone so many history courses with Jongdae Kim.

The worst decision of her life so far was probably choosing to take military history with him. Watching him geek out over 16th century weaponry and exactly explain the development of military tactics and strategies only furthers Baekhyun's adoration of him. She's hopelessly enamored with him, bringing up military topics during honors club just to watch Professor Kim's excitement.

Her journals of stories and letters fill up, and she takes to carrying an accordion folders just for history courses around. She doesn't put her name on it on the offhand chance she loses it so that it can't be traced back to her unless someone knows her handwriting intimately.

"I'm pretty sure all of you here know at least a little bit about Napoleon Bonaparte," Professor Kim is saying. Baekhyun nods along with the rest of the class. "Despite his infamous loss at the Battle of Waterloo, his tactical decisions were usually-"

Baekhyun sets her pen on the first line of a new page.

_She presses her professor against his own office door, hands pulling at his belt._

_"We could be caught-" her professor tries to argue. She surges up and kisses him to shut him up._

_"Don't speak, then," she says, reaching out to flick off the lights. It will look like no one is present from outside the door, and that's exactly what she wants. She doesn't need anyone knocking on the door while she's in the middle of what she's about to do. "Don't make any noise."_

_"What are you-?"_

_"Sh," she whispers, and she pops open the button of her professor's slacks and slides his zipper down. "Just watch."_

_She sinks to her knees, shoving his sweater up and his pants down and dragging her mouth over his hipbones. Her professor releases a shuddering breath from above her, and she grins against the skin at the top of his thigh as she pulls his_

Baekhyun stares at her professor as he turns to write something on the board. Boxers or briefs? she wonders. She bites her tongue in thought.

"Does anyone know what happened around these cliffs here?" Professor Kim asks, pointing at a spot on the map on the projection. _Boulogne,_ it reads.

Baekhyun raises her hand.

"Yes, Baekhyun?"

"The battle of Trafalgar," she answers, and can't keep herself from smiling when Professor Kim points at her.

"Exactly!" he says, and he launches into the next section of his lecture about the French ships and Nelson's defensive strategy versus attack tactics.

 _underwear_ Baekhyun writes and shrugs in her head. It will do.

_down his legs. His slacks pool around his ankles, and she wraps her fingers around his half-hard cock._

_"Eyes on me," she mouths up at him before she dips forward, taking him into her mouth. His hands go straight to her hair, his head threatening to fall back even as he watches her with dark eyes lit with an intensity she hasn't seen from him before. Slowly, she drags her tongue from base to tip and kisses just the head of his cock, one hand still working over what she can't fit in her mouth._

_"God," her professor sighs, hands twisting tighter in her hair, encouraging her as she sinks down again, hollowing her cheeks. She slides her other hand around the the back of his thigh, encouraging him to not be so careful._

_He rocks his hips forward just slightly, and the tip of him hits the back of her throat. She draws back a bit, countering him, and when he does it again, she's prepared. She relaxes, taking him in, and swallows around him. Her professor's thighs tremble under her hands, and he speeds up just a little bit._

_Looking up at him, watching him watch her pleasure him, sets off little sparks of needs flaring under skin, and she drags the tips of her nails down his leg ever so gently, removing her touch from him to slip her fingers under her skirt and press them against the damp cotton of her underwear. Her touch is just enough to calm her body so she can focus on her professor’s pleasure._

_She hums, and he groans, low and breathy. The sound echoes through her body, encourages her take him in deeper, to let him rock his hips at a slow pace that he sets._

_When he comes, she makes sure his eyes are still fixed on her as she swallows. She sits back on her heels, and her professor reaches out swiping his thumb over her chin, wiping his own come from her face._

_“You’re really riding a thin line here,” he murmurs, but he pulls her up to kiss him anyway, mouth insistent and warm against hers._

_“We weren’t caught,” she reminds him. She adjusts her skirt and fixes her hair. “Now, I can go home, or-?” Her professor grabs her wrist._

_“Come home with me,” he says, and his eyes are still dark. “So I can repay you.” She has no reason to say no to that, biting her lower lip as she agrees._

+

“Well,” Professor Kim says with a definitive note in his voice. “It’s been a wonderful spring semester.” Polite clapping follows his words, and Baekhyun claps along even if her heart is sinking into her shoes. Tonight was her last Honors History Club meeting, her last night to spend a little bit more time with Professor Kim.

There’s still class tomorrow and her final, but neither of those are as intimate or as fun as this group is. She’s come to really like these people- Professor Kim’s friends and the upperclassmen in the history department. She’ll miss them, but she hasn’t any desire to continue her education as a graduate student.

She’s ready to graduate. She’s got a great editing job lined up and she’s looking for a new, nicer apartment to match her pay grade. She’s not ready to leave Professor Kim, however. She still, even if it could never happen, wants to go on a date with him just once, wants to kiss him just once.

She’s still pissed at Chanyeol for doing this to her. 

“You’re graduating after finals, right?” Joonmyun asks her as they walk out together. Baekhyun nods.

“Yep,” she says. “Last final is Friday at noon with Professor Kim, and then I’m done.” She smiles in excitement and a bit of relief.

“You look ready to be done,” Joonmyun says. “I think we’ll miss you though. Jongdae likes having you in the club.”

Baekhyun shrugs, holding open the library door for her friend. “I’m sure he’ll find some other brilliant lower-level history student to take in.” Joonmyun just hums before she opens her arms.

“Give me a hug,” she demands. “I’m going to miss you.” Baekhyun throws herself into Joonmyun’s embrace, clinging tightly to her and forcing herself not to cry.

“I’ll miss you too,” she says. She turns to head for the student union where Kyungsoo said he would pick her up. “Say bye to Minseok for me!”

“I will!” Joonmyun promises, waving. “You have my number! You better keep in touch!” Baekhyun blows her a kiss and heads off. She’s really going to miss all of them in that group, but she’s semi-hoping and semi-dreading that when she leaves, she’ll forget all about Professor Kim.

But really, how does one forget Jongdae Kim? She should have written her thesis on that.

+

Baekhyun is in the middle of packing for her final day of classes when she realizes that _oh, shit_ she’s really messed up. In all her four years of university and forgetting assignments or doing the wrong homework or skipping extra classes in favor of nursing a hangover, she has never messed up this badly. It’s stupid- all she did was leave her binder somewhere. Unfortunately, this isn’t a school binder. It would be almost better if she had lost her binder of actual notes and actual academic material.

Her notebook of letters to Professor Kim- that’s what she’s missing. The situation wouldn’t be quite as terrible if she had only written letters to Jongdae Kim about how attractive he is, had only talked about her favorite outfits of his. Of course, the situation would be ideal if she had been able to curb her inner teenager and not write her fantasies into fiction. Naturally, Baekhyun has zero self-control, and it’s coming to bite her in the ass now.

All of her fantasies, all of her thoughts about Jongdae Kim, her history professor, are now in someone unknown’s hands.

Baekhyun stares at her pillows, considering collapsing back into them and never getting up. She could bury her face in them and just suffocate and never have to face the fact that she has been creepily fantasizing about her professor. She’s only one week from graduation! Why did she have to get careless now?!

Baekhyun’s need for perfect attendance in Professor Kim’s classes wins out over her desire to hide for all eternity, and she heads out the door.

Seventeen minutes early as usual sees Baekhyun settling into her seat, flipping open her notebook for actual notes and clicking the cap of her pen repeatedly.

Twelve minutes before class sees Professor Kim walking in, and Baekhyun holds her breath. She feels like she’s sitting naked in class without her accordion folder, and when Professor Kim turns to look at her with his dark eyes not crinkled up in a pleased, welcoming smile, she thinks she might as well have come topless.

“Baekhyun,” he says, pulling a red accordion folder from his briefcase. “I have something of yours.”

Baekhyun’s heart jumps into her throat as she gets up from her seat in the third row of the lecture hall and walks up to her professor. The room feels too still, too quiet, and for the first time Baekhyun feels uncomfortable around her professor. She takes the accordion from him.

“You left it at the honors club.”

“Thank you,” she says, trying to act natural. “I was so worried about it. Right before finals, you know? Need my notes.”

Professor Kim doesn’t smile at that. Something like incredulity and maybe disbelief twists his expression so fast that for a second, Baekhyun thinks she made it up, but then she remembers that her name isn’t written anywhere on the folder or the notebook. He could have just remembered it with her at the club, or there’s the possibility that...

She’s speaking before she thinks about what she’s saying, stomach twisting. “Did you- did you read it?”

Professor Kim regards her with something she can’t interpret. He nods slowly. “Just enough to recognize your handwriting.”

Baekhyun feels faint. _Fuck._ She curls her fingers tighter around the edge of the accordion. “Well, uh,” she says. _Stop talking,_ her brain orders. She swallows. “Thank you for this. I’ll just-” She gestures to the door before fleeing to her seat, stuffing the accordion in her backpack and all but sprinting out the door. 

She can’t breathe. Of course. Of course this had to happen. She should have known this would happen. She should have been smarter. She should have kept her hands on her accordion folder at all times. Her hands tremble as she calls Chanyeol.

“Pick up,” she pleads. “Pick up, pick up, pick-”

_“Hello?”_

“Chanyeol,” she gasps out. "It's me."

 _"I know,_ " Chanyeol says. Baekhyun can very clearly hear the grin in his voice. " _Caller ID._ "

"Right." Baekhyun sniffs, trying to keep herself from crying. "Look. Chanyeol, could you- can you. Pick me up?"

" _Oh my god,_ " crackles over the line, Chanyeol’s joking voice suddenly serious, and there's a rustling, murmured apologizing and a whisper of Baekhyun's name, and then Kyungsoo's sleepy voice is telling Chanyeol where his keys are. " _Where are you?_ " Chanyeol asks. His question is followed by a choice expletive, and Kyungsoo telling him to put a jacket on.

"Campus," Baekhyun answers. "Near the- I'm at the union."

" _Okay,_ " Chanyeol says, and the door closing behind him rings over the connection. " _I'll be right there. Five minutes._ "

"Thank you," Baekhyun murmurs. She dumps her phone in her pocket, wrapping her arms around herself to wait for Chanyeol.

He doesn't say anything when she gets into the car, driving off of campus without a word and taking her back to her apartment. She doesn't move when he pulls to a stop, parked crookedly in front of her building, and Chanyeol wordlessly opens his arms for her. She falls into him, crying out her embarrassment into his jacket and letting him pet her hair.

"I'm pissed at you," she mumbles against his shoulder. "You should never have let me take history with Professor Kim."

Chanyeol sighs. "You only have the finals left," he encourages her. "And then you'll never have to see him again."

"I'm so fucking embarrassed," she whimpers, punching his shoulder weakly. Chanyeol kisses the top of her head.

"Should we get milkshakes?" he asks, and Baekhyun nods numbly, settling back in her seat. She tries to shove the incident out of her mind, and Chanyeol does his best to distract her, telling her about everything and nothing, talking about the graduation trip he and Kyungsoo should take together.

Baekhyun just feels gross. Despite her embarrassment, she still wants Professor Kim. She really just hopes he doesn't hate her.

“You’re too good for him, anyway,” Chanyeol tells her later. Baekhyun feels like it’s the other way around.

+

Baekhyun very seriously considers not attending her last final with Professor Kim. She doesn’t need all A’s this semester. She’s going to pass no matter what she gets on her final. It won’t be flying colors, but she’ll still get passing marks. It would be easier to stay away from Professor Kim completely, but Baekhyun is a bit of a masochist. This final semester has more than proved that. She wants her final semester GPA to reflect all the work she's put in on her last-minute decision to minor in history. She wants that 4.0 she's been gearing up for.

Besides, she wants to see Professor Kim one last time. Her reasons are partly to ensure he doesn't hate her and partly to ensure that she leaves this university with a good memory of him. She'd like to see his smile one last time, so Baekhyun goes to her final, hair tied up messily, glasses on, and overlarge t-shirt hanging off her shoulders.

Baekhyun's lucky her Korean history class was taught on the point system. Professor Kim had already exempted her from the final last Thursday before the Friday Accordion Incident. In military history, her final counts for twenty-five percent of her grade, and Baekhyun can't just not attend.

She doesn't say anything to Professor Kim when she walks in right on time instead of being early, and he says nothing to her. She takes her seat and takes her test with the careful sort of perfectionist attitude that will guarantee she makes an A on this exam.

When she looks up from writing the timed essay, she realizes she is once again the last person in the room. She stands on shaky legs, gathering her things and closing her test booklet. She drops her blue book on Professor Kim's desk and steels herself.

"Thank you," she says. "I enjoyed the class."

He looks up from grading, and there, lifting the corners of his mouth, is the smile Baekhyun had wanted to see. Her heart feels lighter already.

"You were an excellent student," Professor Kim says. He reaches into the side of briefcase, pulling out an envelope to her. Baekhyun takes it, squinting at it curiously. "Don't open it here," Professor Kim says, and Baekhyun isn't sure she wants to open it at all. It's a rather official looking envelope, her name printed on front in a messy scrawl. It's probably a restraining order, Baekhyun thinks dryly.

"Bye, Professor Kim," she says, adjusting her backpack strap over her shoulders. This is it. The end of everything. She's going to graduate. She's going to be able to forget about this entire awkward situation.

"Good-bye, Baekhyun."

+

"Coming!" Baekhyun shouts at the loud knocking on her apartment door. "Jongin! Can you get the door!" Jongin grumbles loudly, stomping through the apartment.

"Fine," she shouts into Baekhyun's room. "Oppa!" she hears her squeal at Kyungsoo, and she forces herself not to snicker at Chanyeol's indignant whine.

"Oppa," Jongin amends. "There's water and juice in the fridge if you like." The door closes, and Baekhyun caps her mascara wand, grabbing her heels and stumbling as she tries to leave her room and put them on at the same time. Jongin gives her a thumbs up before she disappears back into her room.

"Good luck!" she calls.

"Whoa there, hot stuff," Chanyeol says when she sees him. "Ready?" Baekhyun grins, adjusting her dress to make sure it shows maximum cleavage and holding up her graduation cap and gown in the other hand.

"Oh, hell yeah," she says. Chanyeol looks positively dashing in his suit, and Kyungsoo can't seem to keep his proud smile off of his face, looking equally attractive in his suit. "Let's go get out of here, boys."

Kyungsoo jiggles his keys. "I'm ready whenever you-"

"Baek!" Chanyeol shouts suddenly, far too loud for such close quarters.

"What?" she demands, bouncing in her heels. "We gotta go. Graduation awaits."

"Okay, but," Chanyeol says, holding up the envelope Professor Kim had given her. "What's this?"

Baekhyun shrugs. "No idea. I haven't opened it." For Chanyeol, apparently that means 'it's okay, bud, you go ahead and open it for me' because the next second he's ripping through the top of the envelope and pulling out a short hand-written letter.

His eyes go wide, scanning the page, and Baekhyun swallows. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow.

"You should read this," Chanyeol says when he looks up.  
"Is it a restraining order?" Baekhyun asks. Chanyeol blinks.

"No?" He looks back at the letter again as if making sure it isn't. "Why would someone put a restraining order in an envelope?" That's a good question that Baekhyun doesn't have an answer for. She shrugs miserably.

"Okay, great," Kyungsoo says. "Baekhyun, take the letter to go. We got to go now if we want good parking." 

Kyungsoo only has a couple of inches on Baekhyun, and they're the same height when she's wearing heels. Still, he manages to strong arm both her and Chanyeol out of the apartment and into the elevator. 

"To graduation!" Chanyeol cheers. Baekhyun clutches the letter in a sweaty, nervous palm, trying to pretend it doesn't exist as she buckles her seatbelt.

Baekhyun doesn't gather up the courage to read the letter until they're almost to campus, and the contents of it have her in a numb state all through the graduation ceremony. She almost forgets to be wary of tripping as she walks on stage to accept her diploma. She's pretty sure her smile in her photo with her dean and the Chancellor is extremely dazed, her thoughts elsewhere.

"Baekhyun!" Chanyeol finds her in the midst of all the hugging and cheering after the ceremony ends. "Let me walk you to the library."

"I'm not- why the library?"

Chanyeol gives her his best 'I love you but you're an absolute moron' face. "The letter," he reminds her. "You need to go."

Baekhyun digs her heels into the ground, remembers the very few words written on the letter. "I absolutely cannot."

"You're being a dumb chicken," Chanyeol tells her. "Let's go." He grabs her around the waist, dragging her with him towards the library.

"I can't believe you called me a chicken," Baekhyun says when they step into the library. "I'm still not going in there." She crosses her arms and turns to walk right back out into the May sunlight.

"Go in there," Chanyeol says, grabbing Baekhyun's shoulders before she can get to the doors, forcing her back towards the Starbucks.

"I _can't,_ " she hisses. Chanyeol sighs and leans down to get eye level with her. He doesn't say anything; he doesn't have to. Baekhyun knows exactly what he would say, and she doesn't really want to graduate from 'dumb chicken' to 'cowardly chicken.' "FIne," she says. "Fine. I'm going. I hate you."

"I love you too," he says, wiggling his fingers at her in an odd sort of good-bye wave. "Good luck." Baekhyun flips him the bird before storming into Starbucks. She aims for the circle of chairs where the history clubs meetings were always held on muscle memory, and she has to at least mentally thank Chanyeol for riling her up. The temporary annoyance at him distracted her enough to march her straight up to where Jongdae Kim is sitting, waiting for her. Baekhyun flushes; thoughts of him reading her stories about them, of him reading the letters she'd written to him twisting her insides into knots.

"Hi, Baekhyun," he greets. He just wants to talk to you, Baekhyun tells herself. That's all he'd said. It's okay.

"Your letter," Baekhyun says, coughing a little. Professor Kim nods. "I read it."

"And what did you think?" he asks her.

"So. Well. I didn't want to come here," Baekhyun admits honestly. "I was still - _am_ still - embarrassed." She scuffs at the ground with her heel, looking down. "I'm really. I'm sorry, Professor Kim. I- it was just. I don't know."

"Baekhyun," Professor Kim says. He stands from his chair, stepping in close to her. He's not a tall man by any means, but Baekhyun feels tiny under his gaze. "You can call me Jongdae."

"Professor?"

He shakes his head. "Jongdae," he encourages. "You're graduated now, right? Congratulations." He smiles a bit, his lips curling up, eyes crinkling. He looks so handsome when he smiles, and Baekhyun wants to reach up and lay her hand against his jaw, to stand up on her tiptoes and kiss his cheek.

To restrain herself from reaching out to touch him, Baekhyun swallows hard, her heart pounding in her chest. He's so _close._ "I- yes. The ceremony just-"

“Your letters,” Professor Kim interrupts. “Your notebooks. The things written there- did you mean all of that?”

Baekhyun bites her lower lip. “I’m sorry I did that,” she says. “I was just- it was thoughtless. I shouldn’t have-”

“But you meant it,” he presses. “Didn’t you?” He sounds almost desperate, almost like he wants her to admit how much she wishes everything she had ever written would become reality between them. The truth spills from Baekhyun’s lips in a tone that’s far more breathy than is appropriate for the campus coffee shop.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “I-” She closes her mouth, and Professor Kim’s hands come up to rest warm on her upper arms.

"Okay," Professor Kim says. "Good." His hands slide up to her shoulders and then higher to frame her face, tilting her head up. "Call me Jongdae," he reminds her, and that's all the clue he gives Baekhyun before he kisses her. Baekhyun gasps, eyes fluttering wide. His lips are warm, gentle, but his intent is powerful, surging through her, and she melts.

+

This almost feels like deja vu, Baekhyun’s been thinking about it for so long, but at the same time, she can’t get enough of this.

Her back collides with the door of Professor Kim’s apartment, her hands twisted in the lapels of his coat. He kisses her hard, and she lets him, licking into his mouth and tracing out his teeth with her tongue.

"You're so," he breathes against her jaw, kissing down her neck. He makes to suck a mark just under the corner of her jaw, and Baekhyun's head falls back against the door, reveling in the feeling of Professor Kim's lips on her neck.

"Professor," she starts, already panting.

"Jongdae," he insists. "Call me by name. I'm not your professor anymore." He draws back, looking at her, eyes very serious and very seriously dark and lust-blown. Baekhyun pulls on the lapels of her jacket, tugging him in closer.

Their lips brush, static electricity chasing a thrill through her, and Baekhyun whispers. "Jongdae, then." He kisses her again, body pressed fully against her, and Baekhyun presses back, needing more of him.

"We should," she manages between deep kisses and the distracting feeling of his hands on her hips, her stomach, her butt, her back. "We should go inside."

"Yes, we should," Jongdae agrees. Baekhyun slides her hands down his chest to his stomach to the front pockets of his pants.

"Which one?" she asks, breathless with his mouth still at her neck.

"Left," he murmurs against her skin, and Baekhyun has to think for a second, forcing her lust-addled brain to cooperate so she can determine left from right from his left and right in comparison to her left and right. She slips her hand into his pocket, feeling for his keys and not-so-accidentally shoving her hand as far into his pocket as she can, brushing up against his cock.

Jongdae groans, shifting to press into her touch.

“God,” he murmurs. “You’re so tempting.” Something in Baekhyun buzzes with the praise. She closes her fingers around the key in Jongdae’s pocket.

“Let me,” she says, twisting in his arms. His lips descend to the back of her neck, brushing her hair out of the way. She sinks back into his arms, struggling to undo the lock and open the door when she so desperately just wants him to wreck her.

The door opens, and Baekhyun almost forgets to grab the key from the slot, tossing it and her handbag aside in favor of pulling Jongdae in again, arms wrapped secure around his neck. His hands frame her waist, and Baekhyun hitches up one knee over his hip, kicking the door the shut behind them.

"This is nice," she says, releasing Jongdae to take a moment to examine his apartment. She toes off her heels, and she hears the tap of Jongdae's shoes hitting the floor. He wraps his around around her from behind.

"It's small," he laughs.

"It's functional," Baekhyun says. _Much nicer than my own place,_ she doesn't say out loud. "And." She spins in his hold, pressing her hand against his chest. "I like it."

"It has a bedroom too," Jongdae adds, which might be the worst hint Baekhyun has ever heard, but she's so worked up, so ready for him, that just this once, she'll let it slide.

"Show me," she requests, and Jongdae kisses her again before leading her into a small hall.

"Bathroom," he says, pointing at the first door. "And bedroom." He points towards the second door, and Baekhyun takes that as her cue to wrap her hands in his lapels again and lead him inside.

They stumble together through the door, not bothering with the lights, not bothering to slow for even a moment. They have time, but they don't have patience. The backs of Baekhyun's knees hit the frame of the bed, and she shoves Jongdae's coat from his shoulders. There's slight _thunk!_ when the coat hits the ground- their phones, tucked away earlier in favor of conversation and the rush to get to Jongdae's apartment.

Baekhyun doesn't waist even a second popping open the buttons of Jongdae's shirt, and she arches in closer to him when she shoves that from his shoulders too. He yanks his own undershirt off, yanking Baekhyun back in against him. His fingers skim along her shoulder blades and tug the zipper at the back of her dress. It slips down her torso, pooling on the floor at her feet.

"I wondered if you were really this perfect," Jongdae murmurs, hands trailing reverently down her body. Baekhyun can't help laughing, her cheeks burning and ears red. She runs her hands over the smooth expanse of Jongdae's skin, feeling the warmth of him, the muscles contracting under her touch.

"You're just hot," she admits, leaning in to press a kiss to his adam's apple and then drag teeth and tongue down to his collarbones. Jongdae groans, rocking against her, and the unmistakable feeling of his cock pressing insistently against her has arousal surging through Baekhyun's body, and she shifts her attention to his belt.

Jongdae laughs, low and breathy, and Baekhyun gets his belt open, shoving his pants and briefs down his legs. Jongdae's hands slide down her back, fingers digging into her ass, and Baekhyun rolls her hips forward, brushing up Jongdae's cock.

"Want you," she whispers, and lets go of him, falling back onto his bed. Jongdae climbs over her, leaning down to mouth along the curve of her breasts, nipping at her left pectoral. One hand skims along the line of her panties, and Baekhyun whines gently.

"Take them off," she urges. Jongdae does so, dropping them on the floor next to her clothes, and Baekhyun spreads her legs, pulling Jongdae in to lay over her. He ruts against the inside of her thigh, a preview of what he can do, and Baekhyun really feels like she might be dripping on his sheets. His fingers skim down her thighs and press only too lightly against her folds, thumb making tiny circles around her clit.

"Fuck," Baekhyun pants, throwing her head back, back arching. she draws her knees back at the same time as Jongdae finally, carefully presses a finger into her. She can't help rocking down onto his hand almost immediately, seeking more of the feeling of being filled. He adds another finger, but it's not what she want; it's not quite enough.

"You're so," he says for the third time.

"Turned on," Baekhyun completes his sentence. Her honestly seems to have smacked him in the face, and he buries his face in her neck, retracting his fingers. "Get in me," Baekhyun urges. "Jongdae."

He chuckles against her chest, kissing her there and then kissing her mouth again. Baekhyun tangles her fingers in his hair, kissing him back.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. Give me a sec. Just. Condom."

That's a good idea, Baekhyun registers, and she lets go of him just long enough for him to stretch up over her, grabbing for a small box balanced on the headboard. The box and its contents go scattering across the floor, and the two of them laugh. It's nerves, it's humor, and it's comfort, and Baekhyun presses Jongdae back onto the mattress. He goes easily, and she plucks the condom packet from between his fingers, straddling his thighs. He watches her roll it down, and she watches his face go from turned on to blissed out as she scoots up his body, knees spread to either side of him, hips over his. Baekhyun slides her hands over his chest and down to between her legs to guide him inside her as she sinks down.

She exhales shakily, leaning back and balancing herself with her hands on his thighs.

"Oh," she breathes, lifting up slow and dropping back down just as carefully. A low simmer of pleasure coils in her lower stomach, and she rolls her hips again.

"Fuck, Baekhyun," Jongdae gasps, voice choking off into a moan. Pride joins pleasure in running through Baekhyun's system, and she picks up her speed just a little bit, knees spread even wider. Jongdae's hands run up the tops of her thighs and settle firm over her hips. She drags her own hands up her stomach to cup her own breasts, brushing her fingers over her nipples as she fucks herself down on Jongdae's cock.

"Oh, god," he whispers, and he shifts, planting his heels on the mattress and rocking up to meet Baekhyun. Sensation, fullness, tear through her, her stomach muscles tightening.

"Do that again," she orders. Jongdae complies, and Baekhyun forgets about going slow, about savoring this experience, when her whole body is buzzing with pleasure, her fingers and toes curling.

He surges up, wrapping and arm securely around her waist, still rocking up into her, his mouth ghosting over her chest.

"Hold on to me," he warns, and Baekhyun only just manages to grab onto his shoulders before he flips them over, driving hard and fast into Baekhyun. Her mouth drops open, a litany of her own moans ringing in her ears, accompanied by Jongdae's own. Baekhyun scrabbles at Jongdae's back, locking her ankles behind him to pull him in harder, faster.

It builds in her, and she arches, trying to press back against him, trying to chase more of that exquisite pleasure. Jongdae's rhythm falters, and he picks up his pace, his arms shaking, sweat on his forehead and chest.

His orgasm hits him mid-stroke, and Baekhyun gasps, aching with the feeling of being so close. Jongdae fucks her through his own orgasm, drawing her closer and closer, and she pants, unable to see straight as he pulls out and starts his mouth down her body.

She doesn't expect him to, but she's complaining when he presses three fingers into her, mouth closing over her clit. It doesn't take much, his fingers insistent against her g-spot and tongue flicking over her clit, and _fuck_ she knew he'd be good.

The coil snaps, and Baekhyun comes with her back bending clear off the mattress. Jongdae pulls away, wiping at his mouth and kissing the insides of her knees as she comes down from her high. He grins at her, chin resting on her knee.

"Be right back," he tells her, and he gets up, leaving the room. She hears the sink running, and she watches the door, admiring the sight of Jongdae's body, of his skin stretched taut over muscles and sinew, as he walks back to her.

Baekhyun just watches him, breathing deeply. He flops down beside her, drawing senseless patterns on her skin. She leans over, kisses his cheek, and hops off the bed, making sure to sway her hips as she heads off to the bathroom.

"Hey," she whispers when she climbs back into bed with Jongdae. "How would you feel about doing that again?"

Jongdae laughs, a clear and bright sound, and Baekhyun's heart soars in her chest.

"How do you want me?" he asks, and Baekhyun doesn't give him an answer, just surging up to kiss him again.

"I just want you," she admits, and judging by Jongdae's pleased groan, he's okay with that.

+

Baekhyun wakes to the smell of eggs and bacon and what she hopes is pancakes and maple syrup. She squints against the dryness in her eyes from sleeping in her contacts, her vision fuzzing and then clearing again. She looks over at the clock, a simple digital display that is definitely not her cute analog clock blinking at her. She rolls over, stretching out. She’s pleasantly sore, and she can see a kiss mark on her chest out of the corner of her eye.

She reaches over the side of the bed for her phone, digging around for it on the floor and finally fishing it out of the pocket of Jongdae’s jacket.

She taps the name at the top of the Recent Calls list.

”What the hell,” grumbles at her from the other line. “It’s fucking seven in the morning on a Saturday.”

“Hello, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says. “You will never guess where I am right now .”

There’s a pause from the other end of the line and then a huge gasp followed by a slightly too-low squeal. “Holy fuck,” Chanyeol says. “Oh my god. You didn’t.” Baekhyun grins, holding her breath. “O my god. You did! You fucking did! My little vixen. I think I’m crying? I’m so proud. Holy shit. Baek. Shit. What the hell? I can’t believe you!” There's a thud, and Chanyeol yelps.

"Good morning, Baekhyun," Kyungsoo's voice comes through the phone. "I'm happy for you, but also I'm trying to sleep." Another rustle, and Chanyeol greets her again.

"I'll come right back, baby," Chanyeol murmurs to Kyungsoo with the response of a half-asleep grunt, and Baekhyun can hear him moving out to the living room of their apartment. "So," he whispers conspiratorially. "Was it good?" Baekhyun hums, tangling her free hand in the sheets, remembering last night. The door creaks open and she sits up.

"Good morning," Jongdae greets her, sliding into the bed behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist, kissing along her shoulders.

"Baekhyun?" Chanyeol asks through the phone. "Was it good?"

"Was it?" Jongdae murmurs against the shell of her ear before turning her head and kissing her deeply. Baekhyun drops the phone to the floor, ignoring Chanyeol's muffled calls of her name, twisting to kiss Jongdae back, running her fingers through his hair.

"I have breakfast," Jongdae says, pulling back. "Hungry?"

"Famished," Baekhyun laughs, allowing him to pull her from the sheets. She snatches his discarded shirt from the floor, laughing when Jongdae pulls her in after she’s finished buttoning the shirt.

"God, you're stunning," Jongdae murmurs. He takes her hand. "Come with me." Baekhyun's heart skips a beat, and she follows him into the kitchen. Later, she’ll pen him another letter.

_Dear Jongdae,_

_You’re really too wonderful, did you know that?_

_Love,  
Baekhyun_

_P.S. How would you feel about pegging?_


End file.
